


Let Me Play Among The Stars

by Grundy



Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Gen, IN SPACE!, SWG Challenge: In Rare Form
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-09
Updated: 2019-10-09
Packaged: 2020-11-28 02:29:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,428
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20958959
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Grundy/pseuds/Grundy
Summary: Elves in space. Or at least, elves on a space station.Written for the SWG In Rare Form challenge.





	Let Me Play Among The Stars

**Author's Note:**

> Something along these lines has been kicking around my head since the TRSB art previews, when I saw the early version of [this](https://www.deviantart.com/greenapplefreak/art/Floating-810747781). SWG's [In Rare Form challenge](http://www.silmarillionwritersguild.org/challenges/byname.php#I) seemed like the time to finally write it.
> 
> And yes, elves IN SPACE! Don't get too used to it.

“Would you relax? You’re so tense it’s starting to make _me_ nervous!”

Maitimo glared at his husband.

“Given the situation, I’m not sure how you expect me to relax.”

Findekano sighed as he buckled himself in.

“Look, both your father and mine have already done this, not to mention Eärendil’s been at it for actual Ages. It’s going to be fine!”

Maitimo appeared to be doing his best to cocoon himself into his seat. While it was the very latest in conformable furniture, it wasn’t quite conformable enough for one of the tallest elves in Arda to turn it into his own personal blanket fort.

“Eärendil travels in a vessel bearing a Silmaril and hallowed by the Valar themselves,” he pointed out through gritted teeth. “It’s unlikely anything will go wrong with _his _ship. And my father only did this because yours did.”

Findekano blinked.

“Really? That’s funny, because I’m pretty sure Atto only went up because he didn’t want _your_ father to rub it in that he was scared to do it.”

“Good to see that in the Eighth Age, our fathers are as mature as ever.”

Findekano noted that Maitimo was slightly less tense discussing that well-trodden complaint.

“Yes, well, I think Atto would have had to go at some point anyway. Irissë and Galadriel were going to do it no matter what.”

That drew a snort.

“At least everyone insisted Ambarussa not take the same flight.”

“Are you implying my sister, your brothers, and Galadriel together would wreak as much havoc in space as they do on the ground?” Findekano asked with a grin.

He already knew the answer, of course. It was ‘yes’. Which was why the one-time ‘fearsome foursome’ had been told quite firmly by all their respective parents that no, they were not trusted to all go up together, no matter how old they might be.

“Absolutely,” Maitimo replied firmly. “And what’s more, Grandfather agreed.”

“Grandfather’s been up twice,” Findekano couldn’t resist pointing out.

Surprisingly, Maitimo had nothing to say to that.

There was a small noise, and then they were being pushed back into their seats, but not harshly. Findekano had felt worse from hits in the practice yard in the Beleriand days.

He took Maitimo’s hand.

“Just breathe,” he advised. “This part doesn’t last long, and they say the view is amazing.”

He would have happily had a window seat for this part, but given how long and hard he’d had to work to persuade his husband, Findekano had decided that seats on the lower deck of the _Vardalótë _were the better choice.

“This is far safer than the vessels Men use, never mind what they used to do in the early days,” Findekano offered reassuringly.

“Early days?” Maitimo scoffed. “It’s still early days. They’ve only been travelling above Arda for just over a yen. What year is it in their reckoning now?”

“By which calendar?” Findekano asked. “They have so many different ones, and most of them leave a good many years out before the calendar got started. Some say it’s the twenty-second century, others the sixtieth, others the sixteenth. Then there’s the one I know how to write but not say, which I think is on thirteen. Oh, and that new system…”

“I thought they were still arguing over when the new system should count from?” Maitimo said, perking up.

Scholarly and political arguments were both things he took to naturally.

“Yes, they can’t seem to agree which ‘first’ to use as the point for the year zero,” Findekano shrugged.

He couldn’t really see why it mattered, given that none of the achievements being debated had been before the Fifth Age of the Sun.

“It would be so much simpler if we could just tell them what Age it is now and have done with it,” he continued. “Anyway, they go into space quite regularly without any of the accidents they used to have.”

“Yes, I suppose there is something to be said for their newer methods,” Maitimo admitted. “Their current _spaceships _are definitely an improvement on strapping oneself in above a large explosion and hoping for the best. It’s amazing they didn’t lose more of those early star-sailors.”

“It seems to me they lost quite enough, proportionally,” Findekano murmured. “And for the silliest reasons. Not considering thermal expansion or impact damage, I ask you.”

“The part that always strikes me is that they didn’t think the capability to visually inspect their entire craft important until after several fatal accidents,” Maitimo mused. “You would think that travelling in a medium in which you can move in all directions or be hit from all directions, that would be quite a basic precaution. Instead, they ignored it and ended up with three Men sitting in a very small vessel thinking ‘what was that?’”

“You’ve done far more research on the subject than I thought!” Findekano exclaimed. “What did you do, read up on all of Men’s spaceflight mishaps? No wonder you’re so nervous!”

“Spaceflight and the what did they call them? _Rockets_. They had a good number of accidents with those as well. Some of them killed scores of people.”

Findekano sighed.

His father and Elrond both kept abreast of developments in the Mannish world. He wasn’t sure when his father had taken it up, but Elrond always had. (Or as close to always as made no nevermind by now.) So he’d heard about a good many of the incidents not long after they’d happened.

He hadn’t thought they were the best thing to share with his husband, however.

“You can go over all the grisly details if you really want to, but as this ship has _nothing_ to do with rockets, I can’t see why you would!”

“I’m aware we’re not using rockets,” Maitimo replied patiently. “And quite thankful. All our thoughts about how to join Eärendil in the heavens took paths more influenced by _Vingilótë_. And of course, we had Aulë and his maiar taking an interest as well. I think they would have objected to risky designs and pointed out fatal design flaws before anything could go seriously wrong.”

“Which is why we are perfectly safe,” Findekano couldn’t resist adding.

“I do know that, Finno,” Maitimo sighed. “Really! But _knowing_ and making the deepest part of my brain _believe it_ are two different things.”

“We’re almost there, anyway,” Findekano said hopefully. “Once we reach the starpod, maybe you’ll be more at ease.”

At least there would be a view to focus on. Irissë being struck dumb didn’t happen often, but Galadriel assured them his little sister had been rendered speechless. (Irissë had fired back that Artë hadn’t had any coherent sounds when she first looked, either.)

And they also had the promise of a special view. Findekano’s youngest brother had discovered that studying stars and planets was fascinating, and now spent a good deal of his time in the scholars’ module of the starpod, a section which was _not_ usually open to the public. But exceptions could be made for a scholar's older brothers, and Arvo had offered.

Findekano made to pass the small cakes he’d brought – Maitimo’s favorite – over, hoping they’d be enough distraction. As it happened, they were, but not for the reason he had expected.

As he loosened his grip, the cake floated free of his hand and past its intended destination, as Maitimo was too surprised to grab it before it sailed beyond his reach.

“I suppose that’s why they ask us to harness ourselves to the seats,” Maitimo said.

He sounded more fascinated than disturbed by the way the cake moved, continuing its almost stately progress in the direction Findekano had started it on, to the left and slightly upwards, until it met an obstacle – in this case, the ceiling.

“I expected we would feel something as the strength of gravity faded,” Findekano marveled. “But I feel no difference!”

“I’m sure there will be plenty of difference once you undo the restraints,” Maitimo snickered. “Mind you move slowly as they warned us to do so you don’t do as the cake did!”

\---

Maitimo had to suppress a chuckle as they moved through the starpod.

Findekano’s high energy combined with a low gravity environment was interesting. At least he’d braided his hair, unlike the Telerin sightseer they’d just passed, who was surrounded by a silver nimbus.

If part of his brain had refused to be at ease during the journey up from Avallónë, it had decided he was safe enough once they were no longer ‘moving’. (Curvo would have a pedantic fit if he heard it put in those words, but just as part of his brain had refused to believe he was safe on _Vardalótë _, it now firmly refused to believe he and the entire starpod were in motion now, much less how swift that motion was.)

There were elven tourists of all kindreds throughout the public areas of the spacepod, and the merchants who made their homes in the residential modules were doing a brisk trade in food and drink ‘made for space’. Maitimo wondered how long it had taken them to hit on the right formulas, given that perception of taste and scent differed somewhat in low gravity.

The few intrepid elves willing to brave the first voyage of _Vardalótë _(and her sister ships _Elenna _and _Vingiliath_) had come back singing the praises of Varda, her stars, and above all, the views of Arda as no elf outside of Eärendil’s crew had seen it before.

Design of the starpod had begun almost immediately. At first, it had been simple, but as interest in what was beyond the world but not beyond the circles of the world grew, so did the starpod. Maitimo knew from his father, who was fascinated by the project, that two further modules were nearing completion, and several more were planned.

Confounding predictions, the Avari were just as keen as any High Elf to visit – one who had made the journey on _Vardalótë _had explained that no one who loved Arda could pass up the chance to see so much of it at once. The Vanyar seemed to regard the entire thing as new and wondrous inspiration for praise to the Valar in all its forms. The Teleri were just as taken with the new form of ‘sailing’ as they were with the original.

The Noldor, of course, were eager for the new knowledge and research opportunities space presented. They were, however, not as overrepresented among the scholars as might have been expected. The Sindar, to the surprise of the Noldor, were just as keen to join in the study of Arda, even if that meant leaving it for a time.

And of course, elven artisans and craftsfolk of all varieties had been involved in outfitting the starpod. Unlike Men, whose early _space stations_ had been very sterile, utilitarian affairs, the starpod had been designed to feel like an extension of Arda. The architecture, while somewhat altered for the situation, was recognizably and comfortingly elven.

The public areas featured plants coaxed into growing in patterns they never could have achieved in normal gravity, and there were many flowers to give both color and a sweet smell to the air. Sculptures of all sorts brightened the concourses. Here and there butterflies and bees flitted about, perfectly at home in the microgravity they’d known all their lives.

“You can buy honey produced on the pod, you know,” Findekano told him after catching him observing the flight of several bees, noting the subtle differences in their motion and behavior compared to Arda-bound bees. “And fruit!”

“We’ll have to try some,” Maitimo replied, wondering how the honey would taste. “I want to find out who made that water wheel.”

“Water sphere, don’t you mean?” Findekano laughed, watching it rotate.

One of the many artworks that graced the councourse, the piece was cleverly constructed so that the spherical ‘wheel’ could rotate about multiple axes, and its movement depended on the motion of the water droplets striking it. (The entire sculpture was contained behind a clear enclosure, no doubt to prevent the water droplets from careening outwards in all directions.)

“I wonder if something similar could be made for the garden?” Maitimo mused. “The water couldn’t come from all directions, of course, but I’m sure it could be adapted for normal gravity.”

“If your father doesn’t know who made it, your brother will,” Findekano said practically. “Speaking of which, come on. We’ll be late to meet Arvo if we don’t stop gawking at everything!”

“I thought we came up here to gawk?” Maitimo protested.

“Yes, but there’s more to see in the scholars’ pods, and I want to see it!”

Maitimo obligingly started moving more briskly, though he wasn’t worried. Arvo was well used to his oldest brother, and would blame any lateness on him, not Maitimo.

Unsurprisingly, they found Arvo waiting exactly where he’d instructed them to meet him, by a topiary planet that appeared to be Lumbar or possibly Alcarinquë if the delicate floral rings composed of miniature orchids were any clue.

“I’m impressed, you’re only fifteen minutes late,” he called when he caught sight of them. “I expected to wait half an hour at least!”

“We are not late!” Findekano retorted, but not with any real conviction.

“If you say so,” his younger brother snickered. “How was the voyage up, Maitimo?”

“Less troubling than I had feared,” Maitimo replied. “I might even grow accustomed to it, if Finno wishes to make repeated visits.”

Arvo groaned.

“Every time I think _he _has the worst ideas, you come out with something like that!”

“It’s what makes us so well suited for each other,” Findekano beamed.

“Right, keep up, bad ideas. We’re moving between modules in a minute, and I don’t want to have to open the doors for you repeatedly.”

As they walked, Arvo began to explain a bit more about the starpod.

“If you haven’t already read or been told, the different modules are mostly named for constellations, because that led to less arguments than any other naming scheme would have. The original module, which is now the public concourse, is Narsilion, and the docking module is Soronúmë. There are five other modules not open to the public. My workspace is in Anarríma, and my rooms are in Remmirath. If we get separated for some reason – this is mostly for you, Finno – ask whoever finds you to bring you to my rooms, number seven on the Parma corridor. That’s where I’ll check for you first.”

“I’m not going to get lost!” Findekano huffed indignantly.

“Of course you’re not.”

Maitimo and Arvo had both spoken at once, but where Maitimo’s tone was one of fondness for his mate, Arvo’s was somewhere between skeptical and sarcastic. He did not, however, ask Finno to repeat it to prove he’d been paying attention, as had generally been done when they were children.

He came to one of the paired doors that connected each module to the next, and laid his hand on the panel next to it. The door opened, and Arvo gestured for them to proceed him into the space between the first door and the second. He repeated the procedure for the second door once the first had closed behind them.

“Some things Men did were sensible,” he explained. “Though really, we’ve built so safe that I sometimes think the doors are more for the bees and butterflies than anything else. There’s not much for them in Anarríma, so it’s better if they don’t come through with us. Oh, and of course, it keeps the tourists out. Mostly!”

The scholars’ module featured less art, and while it still had plants, they were less flamboyant than the ones in the public areas had been. There were also far more information panels, so the scholars could record or look up information wherever they happened to be at the moment.

Arvo led them to a workspace on the outer corridor.

“You get to be in here all the time?” Findekano spluttered as he took in the domed window that dominated the space, the main window perfectly round, but surrounded by six rectangular ones, giving not only a spectacular view of Arda, but also the stars.

“Yep,” Arvo agreed easily. “I’ve been studying weather patterns – mostly storm formation, but a few other facets as well – and correlating it with ocean currents, seasons, and so on. Eventually we'll compare to the storms on Alcarinquë and the other planets with recognizable weather to see if we can draw any conclusions applicable to planets in general rather than just our own.”

"Alcarinquë doesn't have oceans," Maitimo said, slightly puzzled.

"Not as we understand them," Arvo agreed. "But it does have liquid if you go down far enough. There may well be currents in that liquid that influence the storms we can see, just as there are currents in our oceans."

He checked the time.

“If you promise not to make a complete wreck of my office, I’ll leave you here for half an hour while I go check on the novice I’ve been assigned. She just arrived last week and is still finding her feet up here. I'm supposed to mentor her for her first season.”

“Of course I won’t wreck your office!” Findekano assured his brother.

“If you do, _you’re_ cleaning it up,” Arvo warned. “Don’t touch these three panels.”

He pointed to one which showed a map of some small region overlaid with various colors, a data display that was showing half a dozen different graphs tracking weather-related data, and one with status lights that appeared to related to the environmental controls for the space.

“We won’t,” Maitimo assured Arvo, making a mental note as he did of what was where just in case Finno did knock anything awry.

“Handholds there and there if you need them,” Arvo continued, “and there are notebooks in that cupboard if you want to write things the old-fashioned way. Behave yourselves.”

With that, he left, the door cycling shut behind him.

“I don’t know what he thinks I’m going to do,” Findekano grumbled. “All I want to do is soak up the view! And take a picture or two to show Ammë!”

He worked flap of his bag open and pulled his camera out.

What seemed to be an entire pack of playing cards spilled out and swirled off in different directions, their box drifting out with its lid half-open and a few forlorn cards stuck inside.

“Oops,” Findekano said, sounding somewhat chastened. “At least it’s only that.”

“Why did you bring them?” Maitimo laughed. “Did you think we’d be bored?”

“I thought they might be something to do on the voyage,” Findekano replied. “But you weren’t in a mood for cards, so I didn’t remember I’d put them on top in the bag until just now.”

Maitimo grabbed for a card, but forgot to move more slowly than normal, and almost crashed into a wall – or was it a ceiling? – before snagging one of the handholds Arvo had shown them.

He watched in some amusement as the fine chain he wore, bearing miniature portraits of Elrond and Elros, continued its upward trajectory, making it nearly to nose level before bouncing back down in slow motion, and eventually finding an equilibrium floating in front of his neck.

“That’s worth a photo,” Findekano grinned.

The camera clicked softly.

“You look quite sweet, and you can see the boys as well,” Findekano announced, before turning to photograph the panorama of the world spinning majestically below them.

Or was it above? The lack of proper directionality was really quite confusing to Maitimo. He was used to thinking of Arda as ‘down’ and space as ‘up’, but here it really wasn’t. Though it didn’t seem to matter all that much, not with that view…

Finno was alternating between taking photos, checking the results on the camera, and staring raptly at the incredibly blue expanse of ocean on the horizon.

He glanced over.

“You are glad you came, aren’t you?” he asked almost hesitantly.

Maitimo glanced from the incredible sight behind his mate to Findekano, who had a mixture of excitement, awe, and enthusiasm on his face. Even if Maitimo hadn't been just as fascinated by seeing a whole world spread out in front of him like that, Finno's reaction would have made the journey worth it.

“Yes, Finno,” he assured him. “_Very_ glad.”

Findekano beamed.

“Here, switch spots. I want to get a photo of you with the planet behind you. Your mother will love it.”


End file.
